


Musikebukuro

by itsnotlove



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Bad rapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Musical, awful lyrics, i'm sorry you had to read this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saika and Izaya really aren't all that different, which could be why everything has gone so terribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 01

Despite being the host to a demon sword who was in a rather abusive relationship with humanity, Sonohara Anri considered herself to be a reasonably good person. Though she believed herself to be a human parasite, and someone who deserved very little, she had never used any of the perks Saika had given her unless absolutely forced.

This is why she believed that sneaking into Orihara Izaya’s home in the middle of the night was such a good idea, and that it definitely wasn’t an immoral act. No, she was doing something for the greater good. To control Izaya, even if it were only a little, would mean that she could potentially save lives.

This was a good and moral act, and had no way of backfiring.

_‘Strange…’_ Saika interrupted her mantra of lovelOVELOVE, as well as Anri’s thoughts, after the highschooler had successfully broken through the front door. _‘Strange.’_

A chill ran down Anri’s spine but she otherwise ignored the odd musing to focus on her task. From what she’d been told by her Children, Izaya’s bedroom was located on the top floor. She had no trouble believing that he’d be asleep, given her preparations.

Anri really despised using ‘her’ powers to force anyone to do anything, but it had been a necessary evil. Izaya was not someone she could underestimate, which is why she’d had people harassing him enough over the last week to ensure that he couldn’t sleep even a wink. Her suspicions were confirmed as she crept up the stairs, hearing the heavy and even breathing just as she reached the top.

Silently, she moved toward the bedroom.

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

 

Izaya wakes violently, one hand slashing the flick blade he keeps under his pillow through the air above his head. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust, but he doesn’t need his sight to feel the a certain annoyed presence in the room.

“You overslept.” Namie says in an irritable tone as she places the coffee she’d reluctantly made for her employer on the desk by his window. “Put that thing away before I bring out my scalpel.”

Izaya smiles as he stretches, relishing the feeling of his bones popping and readjusting. It has been years since he’d slept that well, and an irritated Namie was just the icing on the cake.

_“Did you, did you! Did you see that woman and your brother?! (Your brother?!)”_ Izaya literally sings as he climbs out of bed. _“Were you, were you! Were you jealous of his little lover?! (Lover!)”_

Both Namie and Izaya freeze once he finishes, neither moving for an awkward amount of time.

“Izaya-”

_“I didn’t sing, I didn’t sing! I’m not a singing man! I didn’t sing, I **wouldn’t** sing! Of that I’m not a fan!”_

On any other day, Namie may have enjoyed seeing the look of utter terror on Izaya’s face, but as it is, things are already too strange. Without a word, she excuses herself and goes to fetch her phone. She would call Kishitani Shinra once to see if he can help, but if he doesn’t pick up by the third ring, she’ll be calling some of her old vivisection buddies instead.

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

 

Despite all of his (supposedly) best efforts, Shinra has been unable to get Izaya to say (or sing) a single thing. It’s disappointing, especially since he’d been using all of his best puns, and he can’t help but feel as though Izaya is deliberately being a jerk about all of this.

“You’ve always had a rather nice singing voice, Orihara-kun.” He says, trying again to have Izaya speak. “It’s really nothing to be _that_ ashamed of! It isn’t like you’re dancing, which would be much worse. For someone so limber, you really have no rhythm at all!”

Izaya pulls a pillow over his face, deciding that smothering himself might be the answer to all of his problems. He still hasn’t gotten out of bed, deciding that it would be rude for his humans to see, or hear, him in such a state.

Fed up with the lack of progress, Shinra takes a seat on the end of Izaya’s bed and places a hand on his ankle. If it were anyone else, it could be seen as a comforting gesture, but Izaya has known Shinra for far too long to believe that. “I have ways of making you talk, Orihara-kun. I’ll have you singing like a little bird even if you don’t want to.”

Moving the pillow away from his face, Izaya frowns at Shinra. There’s a very faint pink in his cheeks, though whether it’s from embarrassment or frustration is up for debate. _As you can see, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m not sing-ing, I’m not danc-ing! I’m just living, and breathing, and-”_

Realising what he’s doing, Izaya stops himself mid-song with the pillow, groaning in a jazz-like fashion as Shinra laughs.

“You really are singing! Well, usually I’d only be interested in-”

_“If you tell me about your love, I’ll tell you where to shove, her-”_

“Now, as much as I’d _love_ to get your advice on my love life, I think it’d be healthier for you to stay quiet.” Shinra’s fingers dig into Izaya’s ankle, warning him that he’s on thin ice. “Namie-san said that you’ve been like this since you woke up. Did anything unusual happen yesterday?”

Izaya shakes his head, pauses, then reaches for his phone. He types a message quickly, then points it in Shinra’s direction.

[I’ve been busy, but that’s hardly anything unusual. And I slept all night.]

After reading the message quickly, Shinra nods, already used to communicating in such a way. “Do you usually sleep all night? Your bags are gone.”

[What difference does that make?]

“Well, if you’re usually overtired, then you usually don’t sleep all night.” Shinra replies, a little amused at how much trouble Izaya seems to have keeping up with his logic. “If you slept all night, then you weren’t woken up.”

Rolling his eyes, Izaya motions with his hands for Shinra to get to the point.

“Whatever happened to you might have happened before you got home last night.”

Racking his brain, Izaya tries to remember if anything unusual had happened the night before. He’d been on his feet all week, with constant interruptions to his work for the Awakusu-kai. It had been ridiculously difficult for him to meet his last deadline with all the strange fights and lesser informants going missing, but it had all stopped at around eight the night before after he’d spoken to Celty.

[Could your beloved have something to do with this? Perhaps it’s a gift for you]

“If Celty wanted to get me a gift, she has my list! Well, it’s more of a magazine with bookmarks in it.”

[You’re disgusting]

“Thank you!” Rising to his feet, Shinra dusts himself off unnecessarily. “Good luck! Let me know how it turns out!”

He turns before Izaya has a chance to gesture to his phone, and is halfway out the door when Izaya begins to panic. _“Doctor, doctor! You’ve gotta help, help, help me! I can’t go on living this pain-ful-ly! I don’t want to sing, and I will fling! My-self at your feet, if you’d only meet, me halfwaaay!”_

Through his laughter, Shinra suggests that Izaya retrace his steps to see if he’d pissed off a witch at some point. The idea is nothing more than a joke, but as it’s the only option he has right now, Izaya decides to do just that.

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

 

Listening to Shinra may have been a terrible idea, Izaya decides as he’s walking through Ikebeukuro. Though it doesn’t _seem_ as though anyone knows his secret, there’s an awkwardness to him that he can’t quite shake.

His inability to talk is nearly painful as he slips through the shadows, trying his hardest to go unnoticed. There’s so much going on, and so many people he’d _love_ to talk to, but he can’t bring himself to even try. If he’s still being lyrical, then it would threaten to destroy his reputation. Even if he manages to play it off like a joke, _he’ll_ know it isn’t, and the loss of control will be worse than the loss of the spoken word.

Checking each and every place he’d been the day before is difficult, given the circumstances. He’s unable to query anyone, which means that he has to rely on his theories. There were no leads, no witnesses, and he couldn’t recall a single moment where he’d been so much as grazed by another person.

There’d been no time for him to eat or drink until he’d gotten home, which takes poisoning out of the question. Of course, Namie _might_ have been a suspect, but if she’d poisoned him, she definitely wouldn’t have called Shinra.

As he stalks through narrow alleyways, Izaya only just manages to dodge his sisters and their willing captive, Aoba. He can’t help but frown a little at the sight of them together, but puts it down to his disappointment in his sisters’ taste in company. Even if the pair are disturbed, they should still have some semblance of self-respect.

A strange feeling interrupts his disgust, a peculiar sort of nostalgia washing over him. He recognises it as not quite being nostalgia, but something closer to anemoia. The painful longing sweeps over him, moving him deeply as he watches the crowds move.

It’s terrifying to feel so deeply for no apparent reason, and he realises that he needs to leave immediately.

His feet seem intent on staying rooted to the spot, but Izaya manages to turn. His limbs feel like lead and there’s a feeling in his chest that bubbles and splatters, threatening to rise and break out from between his grit teeth.

Thankfully his thoughts are spoken (albeit in a rather panicked manner), and he tells himself that everything is fine. He’s not going to sing, he’s going to leave. No one will see him, let alone hear him, and whatever this repulsive _feeling_ is will simply disappear.

One step at a time, he drags himself away, becoming faster and faster as he does. Soon he’s almost flying, with only the balls of his feet touching the ground as he speeds his way home. He makes use of every alley, every shortcut, every-

“Shizu-chan?”

“Eh?” Shizuo turns away from Tom, a quizzical expression on his face. It takes a moment for him to realise just who had addressed him, but when he does the cigarette falls. Roaring, he tears the garbage bin beside him out from the cement of the footpath and throws it at Izaya with gusto.

Realising that he’s made a fatal mistake, Izaya only barely manages to dodge before he takes off in the opposite direction. He runs faster than usual, ducking and weaving more than usual in order to make himself less of a target. It doesn’t stop Shizuo from at least trying to hit him with whatever objects he runs past, but it does make the situation all the more confusing.

“NOTHING TO SAY, BASTARD?” Shizuo asks, though he’s not really looking for an answer. “GET OUT OF ‘BUKURO!”

It’s horrendously painful for Izaya not to reply to such a ridiculous line, but he bites his tongue. It’s not worth the embarrassment, even though it might make Shizuo angrier. The beast is confused rather easily, so if it really comes down to it, then Izaya’s _afflication_ could _maybe_ be weaponised.

But only if there’s no other choice.

Shizuo manages to keep up, somehow managing to better his aim now that Izaya is staying silent. He’s pissed, but not as pissed as he could be, and the quiet is giving him time to think and plan.

Izaya makes a turn down an alley, which happens to be right beside a dumpster. It isn’t a dead end, and there’s a chance that more people will be down that alley, but Shizuo decides he doesn’t care. No one respectable hangs out in an alley, so if they get caught in the crossfire then that’s their own damn fault.

Pushing himself a little harder, Shizuo makes it to the dumpster in record speed. Using a little more strength than required, he picks it up and raises it over his head without even stopping. He makes it into the alley before Izaya is barely half way down it, and throws it with as much aim as possible.

It soars through the air majestically, leaking trash as it tumbles. Izaya ducks just as it passes over him, almost taking his head off. Unfortunately for Izaya, a bag of _something_ falls out of its mouth and hits him in the head, sending him crashing to the ground.

Despite his anger, Shizuo can’t help but punch the air in victory. He sprints over to Izaya, stopping a metre or so away to cautiously see if this isn’t some sort of trap. Satisfied that Izaya really has been taken out by a garbage bag and this isn’t a trick, he steps confidently over to him and picks him up by the scruff of the neck.

“Any last words, Flea?” He asks with a crazed smile. After waiting for almost a decade, he can’t believe just how happy he is to have Izaya in his grasp.

“Shizu-chan stinks.” Izaya replies, his smirk faltering slightly after hearing himself. “Wait-”

Misunderstanding Izaya’s meaning and resenting the idea that he’s being told to _wait_ by a bastard, Shizuo tells Izaya to go fuck himself before promptly throwing him into the air with such force that he lands on the roof of the building two streets away.

“Ahhh, bastard!” He yells, frustrated with this annoying development. “Making me throw you! I’m going to beat your ass to a pulp when I get you, you shitty pest!”

With that, Shizuo runs in the direction he threw Izaya, fully intending on beating him half to death (at least) when he finds him.


	2. Chapter 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya is having a bad day, and Shizuo remembers the tractor.

                      “Did you see where he went?”

 

                                                                                        “Mother won’t like this.”

 

                                                           “I saw him in the air.”

 

                                                                                                                                       “Heiwajima threw him.”

 

                                                                                                                                                                                 “ **_Heiwajima_ **.”

 

                                                                                                                         “Heiwajima!”

 

                                                                            “Mother needs the other one.”

 

                     “Heiwajima is standing there, if we all-”

 

                                                                                                                                                       “ _There he is!_ ”

 

                                                                                                       “What’s he… doing?”

                                                                                                                                               
                                                                                                                                                                         “He isn’t like us...”

  
                                                                                                                                  “Special?”

 

                      “Different...”

 

                                                                                                 “Different.”

  
                                                                             “Like Heiwajima.”

 

                                                                                                                                                             “ **_Dangerous._ ** ”

  
  
  
  
  
******

 

 

 

 

Despite his best efforts, Shizuo can’t seem to find Izaya anywhere.  He’s searched every building he can think of, all the while silently cursing his lack of interest in Physics when he was in high school.  Maybe if he pays attention, he’ll be able to find him more quickly?

Maybe, just maybe, if he focuses as much as he can, he’ll be able to track Izaya’s Tractor’s Rectory.

With his face scrunched up tightly, Shizuo moves his hand in front of him as if he’s weighing something.  He’d used a lot of force to throw Izaya, or had tried to, at least.  The bastard had the nerve to tell him to _wait,_ which means that he mightn’t have used as much as he’d initially wanted.

“If… If I weigh… seventy kilos… Then that skinny bastard must weigh… forty, maybe thirty...” Mumbling to himself, he decides that’s a good number. Shizuo had never been all that great at estimating things like how much other people weighed. “And a normal guy would weigh what I weigh, and they usually go about a block.”

So if the annoyance was lighter, then that would mean he'd go further, right? But things like feathers never flew all that far if you throw them, so it's possible he didn't.

“Tch! Shitty Flea making me think!”

Deciding to just pick a direction, Shizuo’s hands balled into fists and he took off in a sprint. He ignored the impressed expressions of onlookers as he ran, totally focused on locating his prey.

The first street he ran down was a busy, as was the second and the third. He turned his head rapidly, trying in vain to get a bead on where Izaya might have landed.

It wasn't until he'd run five blocks that he saw the flea-shaped hole in a business's window. With a grin, he raced inside the building and toward the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time until he reached the third floor.

Slowly, so as not to alert Izaya to his presence, he entered the roommates he thought he might be in. There was glass on the floor, mixing with a small amount of blood- but no Izaya.

“...”

Could he have run off this quickly? There wasn't so much blood that he could be that injured, but he'd been thrown a fair distance.

A muffled and strange noise rose up from the street, piquing Shizuo’s interest. It drew him toward the window, and he poked his head out of the hole to look down below.

Izaya was running through the street, singing something as a mob chased him out of view.

Singing?

Deciding that the mob might be able to run him out of Ikebukuro, Shizuo plucked a cigarette out of his pocket and lit up.

Izaya wasn't singing. He was just being weird.

**  
**  
  
  


******

**  
**  
  
  
  


His feet pounded against the pavement, urging him to move his body faster. The group chasing him was dedicated, their supernaturally red eyes trained only on him as he sprinted through the narrow streets.

But Izaya was faster. Stronger as well, hopefully, though that wasn't necessarily a given.

Izaya was aware of just how amusing the spectacle must be to someone who wasn’t running for their life. To see him, the infamous Informant of Shinjuku, covered in blood and superficial cuts, sprinting away from a group of his beloved humans… it must have been quite the sight.

“ _I love you so! I love you all! Right through Spring and even Fall! I love you, each and every one, you’re all so human! All so fun!”_ He sang, trying his hardest to ignore his own melody. It was utterly ridiculous, and he couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of helplessness at his inability to control himself.

He rounded the next corner at breakneck speed, moving so quickly that he had no time to stop himself from running directly into the oncoming car. With his long coat billowing out behind him like some sort of fur-lined cape, Izaya made a split-second decision.

Using every ounce of strength he had, he pushed himself even harder, hastening his pace and angling himself toward the car. With more grace than any person ought to have, he pounced toward the bonnet of the car, his foot barely catching the edge before he used it as a springboard.

He leapt into the air, twisting his body with practiced ease as his momentum propelled him into a sort of twisted front flip. The car continued to move beneath him, allowing him to land on both feet on the rear-end of its roof before bouncing off it and into another flip.

He landed on the road beside the car barely a second later, the flips slowing him down enough to no longer be in danger. With a wide grin, Izaya took off running down the centre of the street and away from the now-stopped car he’d dented.

It felt so freeing and so perfect. To have that much control over one’s body and have things go according to plan- there was nothing better. It was a testament to humanity’s perseverance and unapologetic tendency to adapt, and gave him hope that he could overcome whatever illness was attempting to overtake him.

This renewed confidence in himself was short lived, however, when the rear door of the third car- a taxi- opened just as he was about to sprint past it.

There was no time for him to avoid it, but his instincts overrode his pessimism, and he launched himself off the ground in an effort to jump it. His feet might hit the edge of the door and flip him over, but as long as he leaned into the motion, he'd be able to hit the ground at a roll and continue his escape.

Unfortunately, that plan was thwarted when a long, customised cane blocked his cracked against his shins as he flew over the door.

The force of it was almost otherworldly, and made it impossible for Izaya to land the roll correctly. He hit the ground hard then skidded across the surface. He'd managed to cover his face with his arms upon landing, protecting it from any harm, but the rest of him wasn't so lucky.

As he ground to a halt, he couldn't help but compare this moment to the countless times he'd seen Shizuo in similar situations. That idiot wouldn't have covered his face, but he wouldn't have needed to, either. With how unnaturally strong his skin was, it'd be a miracle for him to even be grazed by the asphalt.

What a monster.

“Oi, didn't your mother ever teach you to look both ways before you cross the road?”

Izaya clenched his teeth at the sound of that voice, and wished that the road would open and swallow him whole. His injuries felt superficial, thankfully, but his ego wasn’t so lucky.

**  
**  
  
  


******

**  
**  
  
  


“Senpai, was extermination achieved?” Vorona asked, almost giddy with childlike excitement. “I restate my belief in senpai’s abilities, and eagerly await confirmation of the ‘Flea’s’ demise.”

“Ah, I dunno.” Scratching his head, Shizuo looked toward the direction he thought Izaya might have been chased. “You shouldn't ask so much about killing him. People will start to think you're being serious.”

Vorona opened her mouth to reply, but was thankfully cut off when Tom clapped a hand on both their shoulders. “How about you both stop talking about killing before people take you seriously?”

“I'm gonna kill him, Tom.”

“Affirmative. I also restate my intention to kill The Flea.”

The childlike determination in both of his kohai’s eyes had Tom sighing with defeat. Sometimes, there was just no winning. “How about we have a break instead? It's almost lunchtime.”

“Yeah, all right.” Shizuo put out his cigarette and frowned at Tom. “Sorry again for runnin’ off like that.”

With a nod, Tom started to walk down the block. “How about we get sushi? Maybe Simon will give it to us cheap, eh?”

**  
**  
  
  


******

**  
**  
  
  


Despite the fact they were in what was quite obviously a taxi, Izaya couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t a little less… standard, than that. Everything about the car seemed to be too clean and modern, with even the driver looking a little _too_ professional.

Not that the cleanliness of the taxi was to last, given that he was bleeding all over the interior.

“I’m glad there are no hard feelings, kid.” The man beside him chuckled, his face aimed toward the window as he watched the pedestrians slowly move past.

Izaya grunted rhythmically in response, having kept his mouth _shut_ ever since he’d been so rudely grabbed.

“Can’t say I hate the silence. Every other time we’ve chatted, I get this awful pain right in my temple.”

Again, Izaya kept his mouth shut, though it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so.

“Ah, but an old man gets lonely if he’s left with his thoughts for too long.” Slowly, Izaya’s kidnapper (or who Izaya would describe as a kidnapper, anyway) turned to look at him. With great care, he slipped his glasses off his nose, then leaned in a little further. “Sure you haven’t got anything to say?”

_God,_ how Izaya wanted to say something. To speak, laugh- _anything!_ But he kept his mouth shut.

With a smile that turned into a sneer, Izaya’s kidnapper opened both his eyes as much as he could. The false eye leered at Izaya menacingly, its unnatural presence enough to be a little more than disconcerting.

And yet, Izaya didn’t react.

With a disappointed chuckle, Akabayashi closed his eye and pushed his glasses back onto his face. “Guess I’m losing my charm. Either that, or you don’t have an _eye for detail._ ”

With a sing-song sort of snort, Izaya rolled his eyes.

“So is there a reason you aren’t talking?”

“...”

“We’ve got ways of making you talk, y’know.”

“...”

“Always thought you were the sort to drone on and on. Not that I don’t mind the peace and quiet.”

“...”

With another sigh, and Akabayashi leaned back in his seat. He rubbed his false eye with the base of his palm, then muttered something faintly under his breath. The movements did not go unnoticed by Izaya, who suddenly felt a lot more interested in his kidnapper cum companion.

He reached a hand out and tapped Akabayashi’s shoulder, then gestured toward his eye in question.

“Eh?” A little confused (and suspicious) of what Izaya was trying to ask, Akabayashi thought on his answer carefully. “Guess you don’t have to hurt to give me a headache.”

There were a great many things that Izaya knew that he perhaps shouldn’t. For instance, he was fairly certain (though he had no real evidence) that Akabayashi had lost his eye in a skirmish with the previous slasher (who just _had_ to be Sonohara Sayaka- not that he could remember her name, of course). He’d always had his suspicions that Saika could leave different impressions on those strong enough to fight her (just _look_ at Sonohara Anri and Niekawa Haruna!), but hadn’t had the opportunity to witness the residual effect on someone who hadn’t been cursed by her blade.

To say he was excited might be an understatement.

“ _Aka-bay-ay-ay-ayshi-san!_ ” He sung, as in tune as a child playing the tuba for the first time. “ _Could it be, that you see, a little diff-er-ent-ly?_ ”

Unable to process the situation, Akabayashi simply tilted his head. He had so many questions, which were unfortunately accompanied by the realisation that Izaya likely had no answers.

“ _Because of me? Because of me? Your weird eye aches, because of me? Or something else, something strange? Something that you cannot change?_ ”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like you know more than you do.”

“ _I know nothing, nothing at all! I’m a clean slate, as blank as a wall!_ ”

“As blank as a wall?” That didn’t make all that much sense, but Akabayashi, realising that he wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to music, decided to let it go. This was far too magical a moment to ruin with criticism. “That sort of thinking is probably good, for someone in your profession.”

Having apparently forgotten about his affliction, Izaya smiled smugly. “ _Why would I know a thing, it’s not like there were wedding rings. How should I know what was said, it’s not like I speak with the dead._ ”

The temperature of the taxi felt as though it dropped several degrees, and Izaya realised he’d said sung too much.

Slowly, but with great passion, Akabayashi clapped his hands. The sound echoed throughout the vehicle, ringing in Izaya’s ears loudly. “ _Ahhh~ ahhhh~ ahhhhhhh~_ ”

The taxi slowed to a stop, and Izaya peered outside. In all his excitement, he hadn’t noticed that he’d been brought back to Shinjuku. With a small (false) smile, he dug his hand into his pocket and gripped his wallet, only to be stopped when Akabayashi held up a hand.

“I’ll cover this, but let me give you a tip.”

“...”

“Those who sing should really know how to swim.”

With a curt nod and a snicker, Izaya opened the door and stumbled onto the sidewalk outside his apartment. He closed the door quietly behind him and gave a small wave to Akabayashi, keeping his eyes on the cab as it pulled away from the curb and back into the traffic.

Whatever was causing these troubles with his voice seemed to be making his lips a little looser in more than one way. Cursing internally, he turned on his heel and shoved both hands into his pockets before staggering into the lobby of his apartment.

**  
**  
  
  


******

**  
**  
  
  


Russia Sushi was nearly half empty by the time Tom, Shizuo, and Vorona arrived. It wasn’t quite lunch time, and thus they managed to avoid the slight rush that came with it. For reasons Shizuo and Tom couldn’t understand, Vorona still seemed uneasy when patronising the restaurant, and rather than sit at the bar as they usually would, instead followed her to a table near the back.

It was quieter there, if nothing else, with the only audible sounds coming from two American woman in a nearby booth. From what could be overheard, one woman was attempting to make pleasant conversation, before the other suddenly snapped at her.

“Shut the fuck up, _Sharon._ ” She cursed, before receiving a glare from Dennis behind the counter. She must have felt it, too, as she stumbled backward before bowing in his direction.

Tom watched as she exited the restaurant, his eyes following her toward the exit until they were drawn to another table. Three kids in Raira uniforms were sitting fairly close by, though they’d been camouflaged by decorative potplant beside them.

“Hey, don’t we know them?” He asked, nodding his head toward their direction.

Both Shizuo and Vorona glanced toward the table, but had rather different reactions.

Upon recognising Anri, both Shizuo and Vorona had different reactions. Vorona shrunk in her seat slightly as her body stiffened, suddenly on high alert. Shizuo, on the other hand-

“Isn’t that Anru?” He asked no one in particular, “Or… Akana?”

“Negative. Her name is Sonohara Anri.” Vorona muttered, her fingers rolling the chopsticks on the table. Though it wouldn’t be ideal, she _could_ use them to fend Anri off and buy herself time to find a better weapon.

Having heard her name, Anri looked up and away from her companions. She noticed Shizuo first and smiled shyly, before her expression grew colder. She wasn’t entirely sure what Vorona was doing there, but she suddenly felt on high alert.

“Tom-san, can I ask you something?” Shizuo spoke quietly, apparently oblivious to the potential deathmatch. “It’s sort of weird, but it’s bugging me.”

Having felt the air change, Tom’s eyes darted between Anri and Vorona, but he nodded regardless.

“Why do people sing?”

“Eh? Uh...” It was such a strange question that Tom wasn’t entirely sure of how to respond, and it dragged him away from the women he was eyeing. “Sing?”

“Yeah.”

“For fun, I think. That’s why karaoke is so popular.”

Shizuo shook his head slightly as his eyebrows knit together, frustrated with himself for not phrasing his question properly. “Not there, but in the street.”

“The street?”

“Yeah.”

“Apologies for interjecting, however, I must enquire of Shizuo-senpai,” After squinting slightly at Anri, Vorona turned her attentions to Shizuo. “Was this vocalist obtaining money in return for their services?”

Snorting slightly, Shizuo shook his head. “Nah, he was singing something weird about how much he loves humans. No one would pay for that.”

After sharing a look, Tom and Vorona leaned in toward Shizuo. If they were understanding this correctly- which they most certainly were- then the person singing was someone who definitely _shouldn’t_ be singing.

“Shizuo, did you...” Tom cleared his throat. “Did you hit his head?”

“Who’s? Oh, yeah. Maybe? I threw him through a building.”

“Concussion?”

“Nah, he was singing before that.”

“Before?”

“I express my confusion, and request clarification.”

Leaning back in his chair, Shizuo sighed long and hard. His heart was beginning to speed up again at just the memory of that bastard, but he was confused enough by the situation to be otherwise unaffected. “Yeah, I think? I dunno. The idiot asked me to _wait_ before I tossed him, tch.”

At the other table, Anri has totally left the conversation with her peers. Her eyes focused on Shizuo’s head, as if that would help her hear more clearly, and she felt Saika go silent.

“He just… maybe he wasn’t really, but… It sounded like he was singing about how much he loves humans. Fuckin’ creep.”

Only Vorona looked up when she heard Anri’s chair squeak against the floor, but somehow resisted the urge to chase her out of the restaurant. If the girl wanted to run out for some reason, it wasn’t her business. Besides, she was much more interested in what Shizuo was saying.

**  
**  
  
  


******

  
  


Namie hadn’t been at the office when Izaya arrived, despite the fact it was still office hours. She’d left no note, but didn’t really need to. Seiji had gone through a growth spurt, if Namie were to be believed, and apparently required her assistance in purchasing new clothes.

The memory of how smitten she’d looked when droning on about it to Izaya had him laughing, the sound bitter and straight from a broadway musical.

God, it was hideous.

Not bothering to do anything more than kick off his shoes, Izaya limped toward his desk and collapsed in the chair. His skin was stinging, and he winced as he thought of just how painful his next shower would be.

It didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things though, and a small amount of pain was little price to pay when he’d received so much information. Though he couldn’t seem to put the pieces together, Izaya was smart enough to know there was a connection.

The singing started that morning when he woke, and shortly after, he was chased by a red-eyed mob, then captured by Akabayashi, who had complained about a headache. It hadn’t seemed like mocking with how the Red Demon was reacting to it, and after Izaya had danced so close to the edge and had practically said he _knew_ how Akabayashi had lost his eye, only to have it all but confirmed…

With more enthusiasm than was perhaps wise to have when he was so battered, Izaya lurched forward and woke his sleeping computer. Impatient, he made his way to a familiar chatroom, hellbent on finding answers.

**Orihara Izaya, reborn!**

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Ah, Orihara! Just the person I’ve been waiting to speak with.

**Orihara Izaya:** Whatever it is will have to wait. I need information.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Don’t you always?

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I don’t know why you bother to call yourself an information broker when you can’t discover it for yourself.

**Orihara Izaya:** I’m not in the mood for your jokes today.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Who’s joking? Ah-

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I didn’t mean to upset you.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Do you need to take a moment to sing about it? I hear that can be quite cathartic.

**Orihara Izaya:** …

**Orihara Izaya:** What do you know?

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** I don’t want to bother you with the details! Didn’t you have something you wanted information on?

**  
**  


With a huff, Izaya flexed his fingers.

**  
**  


**Orihara Izaya:** Fine. If you’re going to be this insufferable, getting to the point more quickly will just get me away from you sooner.

**Orihara Izaya:** What do you know about Saika?

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Ah, I’d like to discuss my payment first.

**Orihara Izaya:** I’ll pay you the same as always.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Oh, I’m not interested in your money this time.

**Orihara Izaya:** Tsukumoya! You pervert! ☆

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Don’t excite yourself too much, that isn’t what I’m after.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Use your microphone to ask me what you want to know, and I’ll tell you whatever you want.

**Orihara Izaya:** Absolutely not.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Don’t be like that.

**Orihara Izaya:** You’re worse than a pervert.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** What did I tell you about getting your hopes up? It’s only you and I, so there’s nothing to worry about.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** If you don’t, I won’t assist you at all.

Feeling trapped, Izaya’s lips curled into a smile that looked more like a grimace. He pushed away from the keyboard and straighten his back, then cleared his throat. Tsukumoya wasn’t the sort to let something like this go, so if this is what he wanted-

“ _Tell me, Tsukumoya, I really need to know. Tell me, Tsukumoya, where Saika’s victims go. Do they all turn mindless, are they always trapped? Do any of them, have burdens with which strapped?_ ”

A strange beep came from Izaya’s computer, followed by another, then another, before it finally fell silent. After a brief moment, a familiar, computerised voice filtered out of the speakers, causing Izaya’s face to fall into an expression of disgust.

“ **Orihara, you’re so stupid. You haven’t got a clue. You wouldn’t know a single thing, unless it hit you.** ”

“ _Are you singing to me? You’re really trying to jam! Not even in your own voice- is that Microsoft Sam?!_ ”

“ **Finally observant, though it took you long enough. Look how much you’re asking, just asking off the cuff.** ”

“ _Who’d want your stupid help? When all you do is hinder! My search is for information, just go back to Tinder!_ ”

“ **You’re making no sense, though I’m not surprised. You have so much rage, pent up inside. Maybe that’s your problem, or maybe something else. Tell me Orihara-** ”

The sound cut off, much to Izaya’s confusion and relief, with text popping up on the screen in front of him

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Was there anyone you didn’t sing for today? I’d say I’m surprised you sang for me, but given my suspicions, I’m really not.

**Orihara Izaya:** Your suspicions?

**Orihara Izaya:** You’re the one going on about how much you know, so shouldn’t you already know I didn’t sing in front of everyone?

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Not for Shizuo, I’m guessing.

**Tsukumoya Shinichi:** Ah, it looks like you have a visitor! We’ll have to continue this later.

**Orihara Izaya:** A visitor?

 

Just as Izaya finished typing, a loud sound echoed throughout the apartment. He looked toward the door in time to see the flash of something metallic, and jumped out of his seat.

 **  
**Well, wouldn’t this be fun? **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aAHHH Thank you for reading! I'm sorry it's been forever since I updated, but as some of you might know, I have a bajillion fic and I get super distracted D: but hopefully I'll update again next week! 
> 
> Anyway! Thank you so much for reading about Izaya getting beaten and bruised. That poor guy... maybe if he were a bit better with his lyrics, this wouldn't happen, haha!
> 
> <3
> 
>  
> 
> oh and if you spot some typos, feel free to point them out! It's after midnight and I'm super dead and not proofreading, soO ksjjgh


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